Face It Now
by Kerewin
Summary: No sex. No love. No romance. Not even a little kiss. Not even a little /kick/, which is worse. But it stars Logan, Rogue and Jean, so it can't be all bad, despite my lousiness with titles.


"...hell NO!"   
The dark-haired man sat up, bloodshot eyes scanning the room, claws piercing the mattress. He was panting, pumped up with adrenalin and ready to ward off anyone who dared approach. The room, however, was empty - just like times and times before. Claws retracted, Logan punched the bed. Yesterday's session with Professor Xavier didn't help any. Even his wonderful abilities - which he would gladly give away in exchange for a normal life, free from all that shit that haunted him, damnit - couldn't wipe out that feeling of utter tiredness, brought on by nights of bad dreams keeping him awake. Valium? Been there, done that; at best, it got completely processed in less than two hours; at worst, though, it kept him sleeping and trapped inside the nightmare.   
No Valium, then. A Coke. Or some coffee for a longer-lasting buzz... he won't fall asleep tonight, no worries about THAT.   
He crawled off the bed and headed to the kitchen, dragging a hand along the walls as he walked. It was comforting to feel something solid, reassuring, _real_. He'd love to talk to someone now, get real shitfaced and pour it all out. That other person would have to be drunk too, so's they wouldn't remember him making a fool of himself like that, but it would be a relief to share it all anyway. Maybe Jean would agree to listen... it's been so long since he acted out on his feelings and he had them under control, most of them being only respect and platonic adoration by now anyway.   
Mind drifted to this familiar subject and body opened a beer, pouring the liquid down its throat. Logan grabbed two more bottles - one beer, one Coke - and rested his head against the fridge, eyes half-closed, breathing quietly. Bedtime again, he decided. A leisurely Jean-themed wank to take his mind off trouble, then some pointless staring out of the window. The sunrise should be beautiful today. He padded out, reaching to the wall again. 

A sound. Normally he'd have heard it earlier, but his senses were dulled by insomnia. Two people... two women, talking... next corridor, one room away. He kept on walking, silently, stalking up to that particular door. Bingo! Jean was there, along with Rogue. Well, no harm done in droppin' a few eaves on those two special women. As long as they didn't hear him, that is.   
He turned the bend and crouched low, listening intently. 

"You can't prove it."   
Jean.   
"Wanna bet who's faster? I know you could throw me through that wall over here, bitch, but try and do that while I'm holding on to your scrawny neck."   
Ouch, that hurt... wonder what did Jean do to piss Rogue off?   
"You wouldn't stand a chance even if you still could fly!"   
"Try me."   
Ouch and ouch again. That was more'n usual amount of menace in Rogue's voice. And that snort was probably Jean's...   
"You have more to lose. If I touch you, I can run straight to the Prof and get myself scooped for your memories. Something like that would be pretty obvious, don'tcha think? Even though you managed to cover up your tracks in the poor sap's head, I bet you still think about it now and then."   
"Fine. But what DO you want anyway? You are apparently aware; is anyone else?"   
"Nuh-uh. Not yet."   
"You don't intend to tell the whole institute, do you."   
If Rogue's voice was menacing, Jean's was pure icy fury right now.   
"Well, anyone with a drop of courage in her would own up to her boyfriend, at the very least. Not that I expect you to do THAT."   
Mocking. Grinning. What is she talking about?!   
"You know the hows, but do you know the whys?"   
"Oh, I suppose you wanted a nice boytoy at your disposal. I discarded all memories concerning you, from all of my contacts; common courtesy, sort of. See, back then I thought you're a jean-uine honest person."   
Again that sneer in Rogue's voice. What boytoy are they talking about, damnit!   
A deep sigh, audible even through the wall.   
"I didn't want to lose Scott. You all wouldn't see it, but he was becoming bored with me... I love him, and loved him back then, so I thought a little affair might get him interested again. It was only logical that the new guy on the team should start lusting after me."   
Footfalls. One of them is pacing across the room, turns back, paces again. New guy? Only logical?   
"You think that's an excuse? Tampering with his mind, barraging him with images till he was obsessed?"   
"Rogue. I know you've been in love; everyone was at some point. But did you ever act out on it? Touched? Had sex? Don't look at me like that. You don't know what's it like to be faced with losing someone you can't live without!"   
"No. I don't."   
Teeth must be ground, otherwise she'd speak clearer. Tampering with WHOSE mind? Fuck NO. Can't be true. No way, no-how.   
"So what should I do according to the oh-so-righteous Untouchable?"   
Look who's sneering NOW. But it still can't be true.   
"Return his mind to previous state. Let him stop loving you. I don't see Scott chasing after younger women now, so you have no use for Logan anymore."   
Just can't.   
"What explanation would he have for that if I did? He could notice and hurt someone, you know his temper. You don't just stop loving someone just like that!"   
You're wrong, Jean. I'm so sorry. You're very wrong about that.   
"Do it gradually, then, but I want him free from your influence. You've done enough harm."   
I'm not sorry anymore, I'm indifferent.   
"Fine."   
Tiredness in her voice; am I supposed to feel compassion?   
"He'll feel less and less for me with every passing week. Who are you going to offer up as a replacement, honey? Sex through layers of clothing isn't very pleasurable, so I'd advise someone other than you."   
Jesus wept, what a venomous bitch.   
"Don't you worry. A suitable candidate will turn up sooner or later once he stops thinking about one scheming, nasty, carrot-topped slut."   
"You're calling ME a slut? I've never done ANYTHING outside marriage!"   
"I've NEVER done ANYthing, PERIOD. Not that I have to telepathically force men to want me, of course..."   
They're going to start throwing things any moment now. Gotta step in. 

The wall split. Two women jumped, startled; a chair clattered to the ground when the redhead stopped controlling its passage through the air. Long, gleaming claws retracted, splattering minute droplets of blood on sliced drywall. Logan's face was perfectly emotionless.   
"Don't mess with my head anymore, Jean. Otherwise I could get violent for real. I'll cope on my own."   
With a shrug, he turned and headed back to the kitchen. A stiff drink was in order, then several more and a coupla Valiums to follow. Maybe it would prove to be yet another nightmare in the morning.   
"Logan..." Rogue started after him.   
"Don't. I'll ask you out for dinner some, oh... four months from now. Remind me in case I forget."   
Make that a handful of Valiums. With any luck he'll be out till midday. Everyone should be well out of the place by then, so nobody will try and stop him from leaving. He's been too long here in the civilized world if he needed booze and drugs to help him cope; he'll be back in four months' time, refreshed and truly free.   
If he should come back at all, that was. 

*** *** ***

I tend to squeal "WUVYYYYY!" whenever I see Logan, but I'd never write a sexfic Mary-Sueing my way to his bed. 

Scratch that. I'd never *publish* a sexfic Mary-Sueing my way to his bed. That'll have to suffice. :P 

I doubt if I'll write another chapter. I'm damn good at beginnings, but can't act on the first impulse. See my profile for more promising yet unfinished fixen. 


End file.
